To you, my dear friend and unrequited love

The ramblings of a fool drunk on the idea of love.

You always seemed so happy

Until the day you weren't.

I stretched myself thin trying

to bring that infectious smile back.

Even though three months prior

you'd rarely respond to my messages.

You only apologized if you happened to see me

because the guilt would eat away at you.

It happened more often than not.

I forgave you every time.

I never meant it, however.

It seemed to put your mind at ease.

You've finally come around to me

Only to have me keep your dirty little secrets.

You never kept mine.

For two months now, we've spoken to each other regularly

Not in person, of course.

Yet, it always comforted me as we'd exchange 

information about ourselves that no one else knew.

I sacrificed sleep, speaking to you in the late and lonely hours of the night

until one of us drifted into sleep before the other.

I used to wonder what it was that drew me to you.

What made you precious enough for me 

to look the other way for your wrongdoings.

God, you remind me so much of myself.

You and I are so alike. We even share the same bad habits.

I think mine are worse.

After two weeks of you being apathetic and AWOL

that wonderful smile of yours has returned.

You're happy again.

You're out of your depressive episode, but I feel miserable now.

I'm weighted down with a heaviness deep in my chest

I struggle to look up.

It seems your stress has found a home in me.

Everybody else has noticed this.

Except you, of course.

You tell me someone has caught your eye.

That's fine and all, but the fact that you go to them first is what angers me.

I spent days worrying for you, trying to help you get back on your feet

and you don't have the decency to take one minute out of your day to say hello to me.

I rarely see you enough as it is...

You tell me you're grateful for me.

You tell me you can confide in me.

You tell me you're glad that I'm accepting of who you are.

Your actions say otherwise.

If only you could grasp how much I care for you.

I assumed my actions were enough.

Maybe my words won't be enough for you either.

Maybe you do know and you're hesitant to acknowledge it.

I wonder if you care for me at all.

Do you think about me as much as I do you? 

Do I even cross your mind at all?

Do you wonder if I managed to get out of bed today?

If I've eaten anything?

If I'm doing alright?

I wonder the same about you.

Despite all the terrible things you've done to me.

All the strife-filled nights I've endured

the grief that rests on my shoulders.

I still forgive you.

I mean it, too.

I love you with all the warmth that remains in my cold and decrepit heart.

I know you've wanted to say something similar to me- even if it's purely platonic.

You're too conflicted with your own inner turmoil to admit your feelings.

You want to say more but you're afraid. 

The ellipses in your messages give it away.

You'll come around one of these days.

For the time being, I'll do the loving and nurturing

for both of us.

Until you can gather up the strength to make your peace.

Be warned, there will come a day where this bright and optimistic face will

succumb to the same numbness you've been subjected to.

What will you do then?

Will you bend over backwards to see my smile again?

Or are you going to sweep it under the carpet like most of your problems?

Only time will tell, unfortunately.

With due time, you'll blossom into that successful person 

you were determined to be in your youth.

Your troubles will melt away

You'll wonder why you spent all that time moping around.

No matter how much you hate yourself for what you're not 

I'll still love you for who you are.

I'll always love you, even as I struggle to write this at 3 A.M. with 

tear-filled eyes and a heavy heart.

-The Black Temptress

Author's Note

Please ignore the minor grammatical errors present. Tell me what you think, I suppose.